


Fate Smirked Upon Our Moments

by kangelique



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Moments, The name of your soulmate is written on your wrist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25493224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kangelique/pseuds/kangelique
Summary: Emma Swan does not want a soulmate. Not since she and Neal chose to ignore the names written on their wrists in favor of each other and it all went to hell.But Mary Margaret claims that True Love exists in moments stumbled upon by accident. In hospitals, in airports, underneath the stars, gone before you realize it was there, missed before you knew you had it. Bullshit, right? At least for Emma it is. How good could something be when it wasn't even your choice?Then she meets him. Handsome and bruised in more ways than one. And they never show each other the names on their wrists, but they do talk about their scars. It's exactly what a soulmate is supposed to feel like. Whole. Like home. Like understanding. But Charles is not Killian Jones.Suddenly she's hoping Killian Jones never crosses her path because she's already falling for Charles.What happens when the moment of truth comes, and she realizes she doesn't know how to say goodbye?
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan
Comments: 43
Kudos: 127





	1. in a hospital...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been really into soulmates lately, and then this happened. Based on this quote I came across my pinterest scrolling hour. The story's already finished, so update every Tuesday.

**Chapter 1: In a hospital...**

_2014_

“Thanks, Graham,” Emma sighed as he finished stitching above her left eye. He nodded, eyes still focused on the poor handiwork he’d managed to cover up nicely if the mirror he was holding for her indicated it, and then he set the sewing needle next to the bloodied cotton balls on the silver tray and gave her a warm smile as he cupped her cheek. 

“Not bad, Em, but next time come here, alright?” he said, tapping her cheekbone pointedly. She ignored the gentle press of his thumb on her bright red bruise, and stiffened further when he remained standing with his thighs against her knees a beat too long before he finally stepped back and relieved both of them, mostly her, of the tension crackling in the air. 

Tension born of hidden feelings and hinted dates and those same feelings not reciprocated. 

“Sure,” Emma answered because she wouldn’t, she would avoid Saint Mary’s at all costs, but the indulgent eyebrow raise he threw at her from the clipboard said he knew it.

Today was an exception. The night had turned out harder than she’d anticipated, but honey traps were effective according to her boss and she wanted nothing more than to prove her own effectiveness. Especially since, technically, it was still a trial period. Which meant she was still disposable and _that_ was just not an option. 

“Looks like you’re all set to go.” 

“Got any Advil for me?”

His soft brown eyes softened some more. “Always.”

He ambled toward one of the passing nurses and she clutched her side when she tried to slide from the bed, in case he did something stupid when he got back, like offer her his hand. She didn’t need it, didn’t need anyone. What had she told her boss? _I got this._ And she did since Ryan Maslow was dealing with the charges for embezzlement behind bars. 

Of course she had to hand it to the guy, he was made for marathons. Zooming through traffic and skipping through alleys. At first heels seemed like a sexy idea but the hassle they brought as she chased after him in her skimpy black dress yelling useless Hey’s suddenly caused her to consider flats for the next honey trap. 

There would be a next. It was embezzlement for God’s sakes. 

Her barefeet skimmed the floor, but she grit her teeth as her side’s protest intensified. Getting knocked into a car and kicked in the ribs twice definitely called for a Netflix binge. 

“Tough day, love?”

Her head snapped up, cut lip twitching her body because pressing her lips together was a habit. “You could say that,” she said and looked at the stranger in the other bed.

He wore a blue hospital gown, one that clearly made him uncomfortable as he arched slightly against the headboard and moved his stretched out legs under the white sheets. Both hands were bruised, dried blood on the fingers he had curled into fists, and they matched in cut lips and resigned expressions. His blue eyes stood out the most under the fluorescent lights, concealing pained stories swirling in their depths as he arched an eyebrow at her, and he was handsome, obviously, behind the glares he kept shooting the overall room and matted hair weighed down by rain on his forehead, making him appear more unhinged than he probably was. 

Emma got the feeling. A bunch of foster parents had taken one look at her and immediately deemed her record true. 

“Here.” Her hands reached to adjust the pillow behind his head, heels of her palms briefly brushing his scruff as she pulled back. “Better?”

The corner of his mouth lifted, but it did nothing to brighten the darkness shadowing his face. “Much appreciated, darling.”

She shrugged. “I know sometimes it can get so busy that they forget about making the patients comfortable. Just happens, I guess.”

A smirk ghosted across his lips. Full lips. He was probably a good kisser. “On the contrary, sweetheart. Humbert, is the bloke’s name, aye? He seemed to be paying you lots of mind.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks. “Eavesdropping?”

“I prefer perceptive.”

“Mm, well I prefer it’s none of your business.”

His smirk widened and he inhaled a sharp breath. “Ah, you’re a tough lass, aren’t you.”

Not a question. Wow. That was a welcome change Emma had no idea she needed. 

She smirked right back. “What gave it away?”

“Curtesy of the injuries lining your figure, unfortunately.”

“Yeah, you don’t seem in the best shape yourself.”

He clicked his tongue and said, “Well I’ve survived worse scraps than this, dear.”

She crossed her arms and flicked her eyes to his stomach. “Like broken ribs maybe?”

“Marvelous guess,” he said, dark bushy eyebrows furrowing an inch. 

“Happened to me before. Kinda know the signs,” she answered his unspoken question. “Mine was because of a fight in school, what’s yours?”

He hesitated. “Car accident. Although perhaps accident is a relative term.”

“What?”

He leaned forward, and dropped his voice to a low whisper, like he was going to tell her a light secret when his eyes betrayed the heaviness in his words. “You see, to some passers by, it might not have appeared like an accident. More of a mishap for the driver. Unintentional in regards to him, of course.”

Realization formed an ‘o’ on her lips. “So you’re saying…”

“I wanted to, yes,” he said softly, nodding once as the shadows surfaced to his face and cast a haunting in his blue, so blue gaze. 

“Why?’ she blurted even though she shied away from the hard topics. 

The personal topics. From everyone. 

But he had the same look in her eyes every day she woke up to a crappy apartment and crappier mirror. The look she’d had when she had a victory and there was nothing to do but swallow it with a glass of wine because there was no one but empty air to congratulate her. The look of someone who’d harnessed years of hard, personal topics and couldn’t share it with anyone. That look was the universe’s favorite on her. 

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, didn’t reach anything. “I did some quality damage to my foe. My life’s purpose met,” he whispered. “And now I’ve nothing to live for.”

Emma opened her mouth to say -what? She didn’t know him. He didn’t know her, but someone should be here for him. Someone. Where the hell was his family, why was he here alone, why wasn’t anyone adjusting his pillow? Heck, he’d looked at her and ten out of ten thought the same thing. 

He shook his head. “Enough about me, love, why is it you’re here?” His gaze roamed her outfit and a mischievous smirk breaking on his face sparked a laugh from her otherwise laughless throat. “Date gone wrong?”

“You’re not that far off.” Suddenly, Cleo’s absence washed over her. “But actually, it’s more like taking someone’s advice.”

“Family member?” he asked gently and her eyes snapped to his. 

“What?” she said sharply. 

He didn’t flinch. “I’m afraid loss and I are old mates.”

“Oh.” Damn it. Her and her walls. “Sorry.”

“As am I.” He waved his hand in her direction and her fingers inched to grasp it, to stop it in the air and hold it, because she was here alone too and who knows how long it’s been since someone held his hand just to hold it, just for comfort. “For your loss.”

A fat drop fell off her chin and landed on the floor when she glanced at her boots. “I mean I didn’t really know her that well, but she was...sort of a friend,” she sniffed. 

“And you say you are trying to take her advice?”

“Yeah. Not sure how good I’m doing at the moment, but I caught the culprit so it’s a start, I guess.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, sweetheart.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Not your sweetheart, buddy.”

He winked. “At your behest.”

“Emma.” She turned to find Graham handing her the pack of Advil and a lollypop. Cherry. Her favorite. He’d memorized it. Oh god. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, just give me a sec.” Graham’s eyes flicked between the two of them before his pager beeped and alarm threw his lips into a straight line. “What is it, a 911 emergency?”

He sighed. “Not sure what yet, but I have to go. Apply ice to that cheek, alright?”

Her heart skitted to a stop, and she was about to tell him to quit worrying, she could take care of herself, but he was already jogging towards a hall. 

“Love, I dislike being the bearer of bad news, but he fancies you.”

“Shut up,” she smiled. He smiled back. She bit her lip, shuffling her feet. “Take it.”

He quirked an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his grin at the offered lollypop. “Quite sugary for my taste, I’m afraid.”

“Better than jello.”

“I was told it had great medicinal properties.”

“Just has no flavor as far as I know.” She nudged the lollypop into his fists and his palm opened, a little. Enough for her to slip it inside. “Seriously, I don’t even like cherry.”

He was silent for a moment. “Thank you,” he whispered.

She shrugged and swiped her heels off the floor. She didn’t glance over her shoulder but wrapper uncrinkling reached her ears and a smile tugged on her face. 

The smile fell once she dragged herself through marble floors lying about their elegancy; dull rooms with dull painted walls; halls echoing the rushing doctors and crying kids and hysterical wives and yelling husbands; the small cross of Jesus bringing no comfort to the empty pews; the families asleep in the waiting areas; and she almost ran back but her legs carried her faster toward the sliding glass doors. 

By the time she jumped into the chilly night air she was panting, heart pounding, and how many times had Cleo ended up in a hospital similar to this one with no family to speak of? 

How long would he have to stay there, surrounded by families?

What would he do when he was finished with the lollypop and the distraction was gone?

She shook her head. No. Not her problem. He was a stranger and it hit her as she buckled into her seat that neither of them had looked at their wrists. Double points for him for not giving into intrigue. 

Not that he would find fate’s joke on hers. 

She rubbed foundation over the name scrawled in black ink every day before leaving for work, because while everyone else might like flicking their wrists to the curious eyes, she hid it under sleeves and makeup. 

Throughout the day, it was easy to ignore and pretend it wasn’t a tattoo impossible to get rid of but totally regrettable.

A nuisance on her body that was as dirty as Neal’s hands on her. Something that wouldn’t wear off no matter how much she scrubbed in the shower. Not to mention Graham hoping to find his own name there, even though his so clearly said **_Ruby Mason._**

And hers. **_Killian Jones_ **apparently. 

She prayed they never crossed paths. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Thoughts?


	2. ...in an airport

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all I want to thank every comment and kudos you have put for this story, really warms my heart to see your responses to this, and overall takes away any doubts I had over posting this. Seriously, I'm so happy and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

**Chapter 2: ...in an airport**

_ 2017 _

The airport bustled with a flurry of strangers scrambling to board their planes. They dragged sleepy kids behind them, rolled suitcases and carried heavy bags, sloshing coffee on the floor in their wake. Seemed like a typical New York crowd, as they pushed against other people and muttered half-hearted Excuse Me’s. Some, the nicer ones, the ones Emma avoided by keeping her gaze trained on her phone and slouching in her seat, offered a smile and A Happy Thanksgiving. 

Happy was overexaggering in her opinion because Emma Swan was  _ not  _ happy. 

She was, just, lost.

Allowing the rest of the world to drop into the seats around her with a sigh, and they were happy.

They had loved ones, families, someone to share a slice of pumpkin pie with. And she had a whole week off with nothing to do and nowhere to go. Sucked was the right word to sum up her holiday. All she had were the knots coiling tighter in her stomach with each minute that passed and she didn’t take a taxi to Mary Margaret and David’s loft. 

All she had was a destination to Tallahasse that served as torture. 

“Tough day, love?”

Emma exhaled deeply and took a sip of her coffee. Needed more sugar. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“Well perhaps I could take a gander.”

She snorted. “Nothing beats disappointing your friends before Thanksgiving.”

Or adding Walsh Ozman to the list of reasons she never wanted to fall in love again. 

“Mm, how about having no friends to speak of?”

Her lips twisted and her head snapped around to the man sitting behind her, one seat away with a coffee of his own in hand and smiling when their eyes locked. 

Her breath caught. 

Wait,  _ wait.  _ Those eyes. So blue. So ocean. And pained stories. So Forget-Me-Not’s and somehow different, a little brighter with the sunset enveloping them in a mix of orange, red, and yellow thanks to the screen window.

A leather jacket fit snugly with his upper body, legs hidden under equally black jeans crossed casually at the knee, and there was no blood this time caking his face but it was him. 

The guy she’d left behind with nothing but a lollypop for company. 

“You,” she whispered, the tone almost accusing. 

He arched an eyebrow and nodded, his tone almost knowing. “Me.”

She blinked. “Wow. You look-”

“I know,” he smirked. 

Emma laughed. “I bet you do. But I was actually gonna say you look different without the hospital gown.”

“Devilishly handsome, you mean?”

She bit back a smile. “I don’t remember you being this cocky three, two, was it a three years ago?”

“The latter, darling.” He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. Thick hair. That instantly curled into his fingers. “But needless to say I was suffering from a touch of heartache and broken ribs, so you’ll forgive my not displaying this side sooner.”

“I was just kidding, I have really good memory, you were kinda cocky.”

“Ah.” He chuckled, and for a moment they both fell into silence, considering. Finally, a tender smile crinkled his eyes. And  _ that  _ sent her heart into a gallop. That nearly challenged the sunset. “I must admit. It’s good to see you, love.”

Her lips pulled into a small smile. Maybe it was. Maybe if she wasn’t too broken she could agree. 

“Not to be rude but I thought…” She quipped an eyebrow and hopefully he got the memo. 

The finger flying behind his ear and scratching profusely informed her he did. “Thought I was dead? Aye. In some ways I was.”

The words were out of her mouth before she could think to be selfish. Cause it was always better to ignore the world before it had a chance to actknowledge you. “You wanna talk about it?” she asked softly. 

Faded pain slipped into the falling corners of his mouth. “When we met, there was just one thing that mattered to me: getting my revenge. Making an evil man pay for what he’d done to my happiness.”

She swallowed. Whatever he’d planned to do to this man, without a doubt whoever he was deserved it. She shouldn’t be so sure, but her gut was. “So. Did you succeed?”

“He died, but not by my hand.” He sighed. “I found it did not bring me the peace I’d sought.”

She shook her head slightly, enough to draw him closer. “What happened after? What happened with you, you know, wanting to give up?”

He closed his eyes. “I realized I did have something to live for.”

She held her breath. Did she want to hear it? 

“My soulmate,” he sighed. 

Nope. She didn’t want to hear it.

“Oh.” She pressed her lips together. “Good.”

“A woman, more of an acquaintance really, called me selfish.”

Her eyes snapped to his. “Why?” she asked sharply. 

His brows furrowed, obviously wondering what the hell was wrong with her, but he continued on. “She claimed I’d not only be destroying my life, but the woman I’m destined to be with as well.”

“Lots of people don’t find their soulmates,” Emma muttered, taking another small sip and tasting nothing but relief. He hadn’t found his soulmate either. 

“Yes, but I do not wish to rob someone else of hope. Bad form.”

Huh. She’d never thought of it that way. She’d always figured it wouldn’t work out, so why not do one night stands and semi nice guys who turned out to be assholes to stall the inevitable heartbreak. 

“Are you alright, love?”

Her walls rose and her gaze should have reduced him to ashes. “What do you mean?”

His eyes were warm and inviting, face eager to listen. And she shrunk away because she’d seen it on Mary Margaret and David too. Became aware she wasn’t cut out for those looks. “You mentioned disappointing friends earlier.”

She shook her head, driving her attention to her twiddling thumbs. “It’s nothing.”

Out of the corner of her eye, he bowed his head. “As you wish.”

“ _ Attention everyone. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Regular boarding will begin in approximately ten minutes, thank you.” _

Her shoulders hunched. “Looks like it’s almost time.”

“Tell me something, love.” His gaze burned a hole into the side of her head. 

She twisted her neck and looked at him, gave him her best steely stare, but he smiled, oh my god smiled, and relaxed her jumbling knee. Her mouth opened and closed several times, the truth itching to slip off her tongue, and tell him everything she should tell her soulmate. Tell the someone who was according to Mary Margaret and David -the perfect success story, the confirmation of the theory, the epitome of You Will Find Me and I Will Always Find You- just got it,  _ got you.  _

“Okay,” she responded, a beat late. 

“Where is it you’re headed?”

She swallowed thickly. But they weren’t soulmates. They weren’t anything. “Away. I realized it’s for the best a few days ago.”

“Care to elaborate?” 

She frowned. “No.”

“Mm.” He sat back and tilted his head. “Well I don’t need you to share. See, you’re something of an open book.”

“Am I?” Their gazes dared each other. 

“Indeed,” he quipped and something about his expression, the softness in it, the vulnerability he’d exposed, the sympathy that clung to his features, the thing a part of her shouldn’t want to give him back. Just so he could see he was right to trust her and meet her in the middle. 

“I’m running,” she blurted, eyes wide and heart bleeding. “I guess I’m running.”

“From whom, If I may ask?”

“From family, I think.” Her lack of goodbye and horrible communication shook her violently. “Actually they’re friends, but they could be family. They treat me like family. Now I’m going, hoping to find some perspective.

He squinted at her. “Why are so scared of staying?” he asked gently, desperately, and she jumped out of her haze. 

“Excuse me?” she scoffed. 

“Perhaps, and I may be wrong, but perhaps it’s because you might see a future there. A happy one.”

Right. On the. Nose. 

“What about you, where are you going?” She could read him too, she could put him in the spot. 

“Nowhere, dear.” He grinned. “Just so happened my shift came to a bitter end and I caught sight of the lollypop lass.” 

Emma laughed, warmth flooding her cheeks. “Seriously? That’s what you came up with in three years? Code names not your department obviously.”

He chuckled, and grew serious. “I’m afraid I haven’t properly introduced myself, I’m-”

Her hand shot forward. “Wait. Don’t tell me.”

He studied her. “I beg your pardon, love?”

“It’s just…” She licked her lips and glanced at her boots. “I’m sick of everyone introducing their names first at everything. Like at the precinct, or this Christmas party I went to last year. Checking wrists too. It’s annoying, people always trying to see what name I’m stuck with.”

He smirked, amused. “Not a fan of your soulmate, I take it.”

She gave him a look. “Not  _ my  _ soulmate. Heck, I don’t even know the guy. Just soulmates in general.”

“I see.”

She winced. “Sorry.”

“Nonsense, I understand how grating the masses can be.” He reached forward and grasped her fingers gently, stealing the breath from her throat, and melting her tired pieces for a moment, for the kiss he pressed to the back of her hand. No saliva. No sloppy kiss. Nothing but a careful peck, aware of her assessing eyes, and his thumb smoothing over skin that hadn’t been caressed in forever. Ever. “Despite your limitations, I would like something to call you. Any name of your preference.”

“Leia,” immediately fell from her dry lips. 

“An honor to be in your presence, Leia.” He smirked. “Allow me to introduce myself: Charles, at your service.”

She giggled. Oh shit. 

“ _ Attention everyone. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Regular boarding begins in approximately five minutes, thank you.” _

His smile faded. “Time to go, love.”

The real question was did she want to? 

Tallahassee was her escape route. The promise Neal had broken. Their almost home. 

Before meeting Cleo, after she’d been released from the correction facility, she’d grudgingly taken the pity bug and used all the money stolen from convenience stores to drive to Tallahasse. 

He was right. Everything was near a beach, everything could have been perfect, could have been the place where they finally got their act together. 

As the waves had lapped at her dirty clothes, it’d landed like a punch to her stomach that she was alone and it was her fault for trying, for believing, for loving so hard, for thinking they could screw the names on their wrists for each other. 

**_Moraine Colt_ ** had been on his. And she should have cared, she should have known she was the one he met before he met  _ the  _ one. 

Now, each time another relationship went downhill, she returned to Tallahasse because it reminded her not to trust anyone ever again, not fully, not to take the risk only for it to blow up in her face. Now that she’d met Mary Margaret and David, Tallahassee begged for her because she couldn’t take the risk on them either. 

“I don’t know,” Emma finally whispered. 

Her legs had stopped shaking. Her hands had stopped sweating. Her body had stilled enough to know she would regret her decision. 

“Time remains, darling.” The palm wrapped around her fingers squeezed. 

“I already paid.”

“I know a mate who’d give you a refund.” 

“I left.” Her lower lip trembled. “I don’t know if they’ll forgive me.”

His smile, his eyes so tender. So like a pillow she could fall into. “Leia, love, what’s the harm in finding out.”

“Okay,” she breathed. 

Okay?

Okay. 

She stood to her feet and he followed suit. “Do you like pumpkin pie?” she suddenly asked. The idea of him turning his back and leaving pressing hard and without warning on her chest. 

He smirked. “Indeed, but I’ve a sense I’d enjoy the company far more.”

She pursed her lips, smiling. “Only one way to find out,  _ Charles.” _

“After you, milady.”

She spent the afternoon digging her fork into pumpkin pie and trading sob stories with their eyes. 

She spent Thanksgiving with Mary Margaret and David. 

And she spent the next year in New York wishing her soulmate never found her. 

Wishing Charles found her again instead. 


	3. in a year...

**Chapter 3: ...in a year**

_2018_

They’d exchanged phone numbers. 

They stayed Charles and Leia, and each time a new text popped relief and curiosity fought for dominance in Emma’s sigh. 

He always asked if her day was tough and it was too hard to lie and too easy to spill her guts out. 

Slowly, suddenly, she did scary actions. 

Like when she called him without thinking at two in the morning on the side of a highway, and he answered on the first ring with sleep in his voice and honesty in his words. 

She’d been intent on temporary again, intent on Boston, not intent on him. Not intent on what he said to hit their mark. 

But he claimed she wasn’t the worst best friend in the world just because she didn’t want to be there for Mary Margaret and David’s happiness, because she didn’t have her own and sooner or later she’d screw up on this one good thing too.

Through her silent tears and sniffs, he convinced her she was human but to go back and be human with them. 

So, she became Leo Nolan’s official godmother and renewed her lease.

Slowly, suddenly, he did scary actions too. 

Like when he called her at six in the afternoon, and she answered in the middle of a stakeout and listened to his anger turn to sobs outside of his dad’s house.

He’d been intent on closure, on not destroying another family, on finding peace, but when his dad introduced his new son as Liam he’d lost it and _too much, love, it’s too much_ exploded in her ear. 

Somehow, her horrible pep talks came in handy and made him laugh. And she reminded him he was human too. 

So, he returned to New York with a hand freshly shaked and the chapter on his childhood closed and flashes of light in his eyes when they facetimed. 

They rarely hung out, because what if they revealed the names on their wrists accidentally? And were, worse, disappointed with reality?

Emma got attached to receiving a lollypop when she stumbled through Saint Mary’s and he was already there, beating Graham with the concerned looks and holding her chin a little too long, but a small part secretly liked, just liked, the way he scooped her into his arms and respectfully pulled her sleeve over her wrist and assured Graham he would make sure to put ice on her cheek when they got home. 

Liked that he cared, maybe loved her too. 

Liked that he was most likely not her soulmate, but definitely her choice. 

He told her why he worked at the airport even though the harbor, the beach, the boats haunted him. Why he couldn’t trust the waters to purge his demons, why staying near planes was the safest bet, why the ocean was an addiction he wasn’t ready to fall into again. And she did another stupid scary action. 

She entwined their fingers. 

He squeezed their joined hands. 

Both of them took forever to let go. 

She escaped to Tallahasse immediately and it didn’t work. 

She already trusted him. 

She already wanted to screw the name on her wrist, and more than anything ask him screw the name on his wrist, and be selfish. Again. 

Damn it. 

***********

“Oh my god, Emma, what if he’s your soulmate?!”

Emma choked on her orange juice, coughing into the cup. “What?” _What if._

Mary Margaret nodded enthusiastically. “I mean it’s entirely possible, and it would explain why you haven’t found yours, plus that silly thing you two have with not showing each other your wrists could actually be keeping you from the truth. Imagine how happy you’d be. I wouldn’t have to wait for Leo to grow up, I could plan your wedding instead!”

Her eyes bulged. “Wedding?” she squeaked. “Let’s dial it back a bit, okay? I think you’re getting too ahead of yourself.”

Mary Margaret sighed. “I just want you to be happy.” Her hand covered Emma’s knuckles softly, soothingly, a glimpse to a mother’s affection. “You may not believe it but you deserve a happy ending, sweetie.”

“Why?’ she snapped, and winced. “Sorry. Look, maybe. I don’t know. I’m not sure I’m ready.”

“What’s the harm in finding out?” David said nonchalantly from the kitchen island, closing the dishwasher. 

Emma groaned. “Not you too.”

David crossed his arms and shrugged. “Come on, you’re obviously as curious as the rest of us. Don’t deny it, Em.”

She slumped against the couch cushion. “I resign from being Leo’s godmother now.”

“Too late,” David chuckled. “You’re stuck with us forever.”

A smile tugged on her lips. Forever sounded nice. 

“Really, Emma honey,” Mary Margaret said, sliding the smile from her face as she gazed at her with a faint frown. “Why don’t you want to know?”

“Because I don’t know how to say goodbye,” she whispered. 

And if they had to, her walls wouldn't protect her.

She'd cast her leather jacket, her armor, to the floor too many times for his arms.

  
  


*********

**_L: Hey_ **

**_C: Tough day, love?_ **

**_L: Depends on your decision_ **

**_L: I think I want to_ **

**_C: As you wish._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really short chapter, I know, don't hate me, but it's time, it's finally happening!


	4. ...in a choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, I can't believe this story has come to an end, makes me a little sad, I'm definitely proud of this and extremely happy of the responses to it. Thank you so much for continuing to read and leave kudos and comments, I'm eternally grateful. Enjoy!

**Chapter 4: ...in a choice**

_ 2019 _

The soft summer breeze caressed her face as she walked down Brooklyn Bridge. 

Her steps had been confident, a false ready in her impatient legs, but now as she passed couples strolling by and families peering by the rail and a few loners appreciating the calm waters below, her steps had suddenly turned heavy and hard like she was crossing through quicksand.

Quicksand that seemed more and more appealing with each minute she delayed their meeting, and convinced her to let it swallow her ankles, swallow her whole if it meant life,  _ fat _ wouldn’t have the chance to kick her in the teeth again. 

Maybe Mary Margaret was wrong. Maybe she was letting her optimism get to her head. Maybe she couldn’t help it, couldn’t help wanting it, starved by it. 

The weather didn’t even match her mood. They should have done this in the winter, so the chilly air could keep her wrist in sleeves and the constant twisting of her fingers could be blamed on the raging winds and the shifting on her feet could be the excuse of not wearing warmer socks instead of itching to run, run and never look back. Run and try to believe life was good, life was okay, and she could be content. 

But...he made her happy and after Mary Margaret and David, after so many relationships that chipped off another piece of her, didn’t she deserve the real deal too?

She bit her lip, chewed on it without mercy, and grimaced slightly. A year had passed since scratching an itch didn’t hold the same pleasure, since giving her body over to strangers for a night widened the void instead of momentarily filling it, since hands tracing and memorizing and  _ loving her  _ didn’t sound like a such a bad idea. Preferably from Charles -or whatever his real name was. Hopefully Killian.

Killian Jones, Killian Jones,  _ Killian Jones.  _

If she wanted to back out, he’d understand so-

“Hello, love.”

She froze and quickly tucked a strand behind her ear as she turned around slowly. 

He smiled and it settled in her chest, drew her forward to copy his stance as he leaned against the rail, fingers neatly folded on top, the yellow lights adorning the length of the bridge faintly illuminating his face, open and vulnerable and  _ oh god _ hopeful as he stared at her, eyes tender and brows creating a small pinch in resignation after a long moment. She inhaled a deep breath at the same time he nodded, both their gazes falling to waves lapping quietly for courage. 

“Having second thoughts, aye?” 

“Nice place you picked,” she remarked instead. 

“Are you aware the AAA hosts stargazing events twice a month during the summer?” he asked as she pressed closer, legs aligning, side of thighs meeting, arms brushing, knuckles a breath from touching. 

“Actually I didn’t know that. Never done stargazing before.” Never had a real date either. 

“Fellow space enthusiasts take the onlookers to the waterfront nearest Pier 1 for it.”

“Mm.” She studied him silently, recklessly, and bumped his shoulder lightly. “I’m guessing you’re one of those space enthusiasts, right? Big science nerd.”

His lips pursed and a giggle escaped her lips when the night couldn’t hide the blush blooming on his cheeks as he scratched behind his ear. “Believe it or not, I had my sights set on becoming an astronomer after my brother’s dream didn’t take.”

“You still could,” she said softly. “I mean, I was a big fan of literature in high school. Sort of. Mostly classics, and fairytales or whatever. The Ugly Duckling was my favorite, but then you know, college was too much money.”

“I second that notion,” he sighed. 

She frowned and dipped her cheek against his shoulder. He didn’t move. Good. Because her heart skipped a beat when his lips hovered above her forehead, breathing warm air into her skin, so close he could kiss her and she wouldn’t jump, she’d be semi ready. “Do you regret it?” she murmured, chin tapping the leather. “Following your brother’s dream and not yours.”

“No.” The muscles in his throat were visible when he swallowed and if she placed a kiss there, would  _ he  _ be ready? Were either of them ready for this? “It granted me more time, however short.”

Her own regret pricked at her eyes and she blinked furiously. “I wish I’d had more time with Cleo. Ours was way too short. Sometimes I think she would have been the one to take me to her boss, tell him I was resourceful, supervise my trial and everything and see I was trying to look front ways this time.” Her lower lip quivered and her face fell with her tears. “It was my fault, I couldn’t let go. She was only there because I wanted the truth so bad.”

“Love.” He turned and cupped her cheeks as a late sniff trembled her body. His face crumpled and a shine swept over his eyes as he blurred in her vision. She couldn’t take it, couldn’t see him crying because she was crying, couldn’t see he felt her pain like they were one, so she dropped her gaze to his button down and sighed shakily when his thumbs caught the tears slipping from her chin and traced the sides of her face, fingers sliding around the nape of her neck and winding through her hair as he nudged her to look at him as he pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. 

She smiled waterily. She was ready. 

“Charles.”

“That’s not truly my name. And you were simply human, darling.”

“So you keep telling me,” she half laughed, half continued crying. 

“I was simply human when I went in search of the truth.” 

“About soulmates.”

“Aye.”

“You never told me your theory.”

“Perhaps people are drawn to one another, perhaps their atoms were nearest each other when the universe was formed and alongside time, those atoms returned to each other, found each other. As you and I. As Mary Margaret and David.”

She gasped. “Wait, you think-”

“I know,” he whispered. 

Her eyes locked with his, hesitant. “You really think it’s possible, that we could have a white picket fence life? What if we’re not?”

He shook his head reverently. “I’ll never stop fighting for us if not.”

She stared at him, trying to find the lie, but there was unwavering love as he waited. “Okay,” she licked her lips. “Okay, let’s do this.”

He ducked his head and captured her lips. Her eyes popped, and a second later, they were falling closed as he swallowed her sigh and her arms looped around his neck urging him closer. His own arms snaked around her waist, tugging her into chest as her boots hit his, and their noses slid past each other as she fused her mouth to his. Her nails scraped toward his scalp, fingers sifting through his silky locks to cup his head and angle his tongue deeper into her mouth. He moaned and it reverberated against their clashing teeth, sending a shiver through her spine and tingling her toes as she urged them off the ground to twist their tongues languidly. His fingers brushed over her ass, trailed higher and squeezed her hip roughly, a year of waiting in the way he fisted the ends of her swinging hair and jumbled it against her heaving shoulders as he kissed her back amorously. Fire engulfed her body, but their kiss slowed, tongues caressing and noses rubbing and lip nibbling and hot air puffed into open mouths. 

“That was…” he panted, eyes trying to put it into words. 

“Not a one time thing,” she said firmly, her chest bursting as big as his. 

He grinned. “Oh bloody hell no.”

She laughed and closed her eyes as she nodded against his mouth. “Show me,” she said softly. 

He pulled back, only a fraction because her hands gripped the lapels of his jacket, and nudged her cheek with his nose when he held his wrist out, sleeve-free. 

“Look, my love. Please look.”

**_Emma Swan_ ** was written on his skin. 

**_Killian Jones_ ** was written across her heart. 

“Killian?” she almost yelled. 

A smile broke over his face, soft and warm and hers. “I love you, Emma Swan.”

“I love you too,” she said and jumped for another kiss. 

Underneath the stars, they loved. 

And somewhere in the sky, fate sighed. 

_ Finally.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Hi again! Even though this story is finished, if you guys have anything more you'd like to read, I'd be more than happy to write it. Just leave your idea in the comments below. 
> 
> -If you're interested, I will be posting two more soulmate stories in the coming weeks. "you will find me in dreams too" and "Tying you to me". They will be a little longer, six chapters or so and a little darker in comparison to this one. 
> 
> -And lastly, thoughts, thoughts, thoughts?!


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